


Roll With It

by ihavesomanynotes



Category: Ylvis
Genre: Brotherly Love, Other, big brother vegard, hurt!bård, ikmy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-20 01:36:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2410232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihavesomanynotes/pseuds/ihavesomanynotes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bård breaks his arm during an IKMY stunt gone wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A little hurt!Bård for Emma, cause I know she loves them so. :)

The lights always made him sweat. Vegard rubbed his palms on his thighs--he couldn't risk slipping and hurting himself. Of COURSE they had to do a physical stunt. On live TV. Calle would win, no doubt, the man was made of rubber. 

"What do I need to do again?" he asked Magnus. 

"Your best gymnastics move, Vegard."

"Where's your leotard, brother?" Bård piped up from the corner with a smirk. The audience ate that one up. Vegard flipped him off with a grin, to the delight of a few of the people in the front row who cheered. 

The best thing he could think of was a front handspring. _Can I still do a front handspring?_ He took a few steps backward, got a running start and sort of managed to pull it off. He flipped, at least. Bård and Calle doubled over in laughter, and Bjørn and the band responded with a _ba-dum-tsssh_ and a little fanfare. He spread his arms out wide to the audience, beckoning for the applause. 

"Oh, stop, stop," Bård called over the cheers, waving them away like an annoying fly. "Honestly."

Vegard chuckled as Bård made an exaggerated show of cracking his neck and his knuckles, rolling his shoulders, shaking his feet. His lovably arrogant stage persona was _loving_ this.  "Today, Bård." The band started a drumroll. "Hey, I didn't get one of those!" he yelled in Bjørn's general direction. 

"SHUT UP! Breaking my focus!" Bård shouted at him over the continuing drumroll. 

As he got his running start, Vegard found himself worrying about Bård's back.  Maybe this wasn't the best idea. Bård pulled off a pretty good handspring himself. But as he landed, his foot slipped, and the audience let out an audible gasp as his feet went out from under him. Bård caught himself with both hands, but his right hand took it much harder than his left. There was a split second of silence, until he sprang to his feet and threw his arms in the air. The audience was obviously relieved that he didn't seem to be hurt.  Vegard knew better. He'd seen the way Bård used his left arm to get to his feet, and he saw the way his right arm was suspiciously still at his side. 

 _He's hurt. He's hurt, and he's hiding it._  

He knew his brother had a low tolerance for pain on a good day, and if this was something serious...he wasn't sure how long Bård would be able to keep his composure. 

Calle's turn. He did a perfect imitation of a gymnast, complete with the salutes and prep poses. The audience was already laughing and cheering. He had this in the bag. Vegard noticed the only thing missing--Bård's laugh. He was smiling, but it wasn't genuine. He always laughed at Calle, genuinely. If he wasn't laughing now, something was up.

Of course, Calle did a perfect roundoff back handspring--where the hell did he even learn that?--with another exaggerated gymnast salute at the end. The audience went crazy as Calle took his spot in line to wait for the results. 

Nobody else had caught on yet. Magnus was taking his time announcing the winner, joking around with Calle and the band and pretending he couldn’t decide. Vegard was grateful for that bit, at least. It bought him some time. He stole another glance at Bård…god, he was pale. Vegard could see a thin sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead, and he highly doubted it was from the lights.

He tried to keep his eyes on his little brother without appearing too obvious, hoping Bård would sense it and return the eye contact. As usual, he did. Vegard shot him the subtlest of “are you okay?” glances. Bård’s expression in return told him all he needed to know—his jaw was clenched and there was no trace of joking in his eyes. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

_He’s about to break._

He needed to get Bård off the stage. He glanced at Calle, but he was too busy entertaining the audience. Magnus finally announced the winner—he didn’t hear who it was, most likely Calle—and during the confetti cannon blast, Vegard tapped Calle on the shoulder and jerked his head at Bård. Realization and concern flashed across his face for an instant, replaced just as quickly by the profession funny-man mask that he was so good at and that Vegard was eternally grateful for—it had saved their butts on stage and camera more times than he could count. Calle turned to the camera and started the send-off script they all knew so well. Vegard hadn’t even realized it was time for a commercial break. Thank god, at least something was working in their favor. They could figure something out in 5 minutes.

"Vi snakkes!"

Vegard heard the music and knew the camera was panning over the audience now.  _Audience. Remember the audience. Live._ He smiled and waved again, winking at a girl in the front row, and then turned and nodded at Bård. His smile didn’t reach his eyes and his wave with his other hand looked awkward, but he made it. He walked off stage, cradling his arm as soon as he got to the wings. 


	2. Chapter 2

 Vegard raced backstage as soon as he felt he was able to without drawing attention. Bård was sitting in a folding chair, holding his arm awkwardly and taking deep breaths as the medic rushed to his side. 

"We don't have time to do much if you want to finish the show," she was saying. "Let me look at it again?"

Bård used his other hand to raise up his arm, clenching his jaw to keep from making a sound. Someone had helped him roll his sleeve up and for the first time, Vegard got a look at the damage. He felt his stomach turn. His arm was swollen, starting to bruise a little, and seemed to slightly bend halfway between the wrist and elbow. Bård looked up at Vegard's sharp intake of breath, finally noticing his brother's presence. 

"Yeah, I know," he said, the pain obvious in his voice. He let out another deep breath. "Arms don't bend there." 

"It doesn't seem too bad, thankfully," the medic said. Bård scoffed in reponse and she looked up at him. "No, I realize it hurts, but the swelling should go down soon. I can get a temporary splint on it pretty quickly, but I'm going to need to make sure the bones are lined up properly. It's going to hurt, normally you'd take medication first, but..."

Bård's expression changed slightly. He'd been keeping a pretty stoic face up until this point, but Vegard could see the thinly veiled fear in his eyes. His little brother didn't handle pain well, but the anticipation of pain was usually worse. Vegard was slightly taken aback by just how  _young_ he looked. In that moment, he was just his kid brother, and he couldn't do anything to make it better. 

_Stop it, he's a grown man, it's just his arm, you're being overprotective._

"You're sure you want to finish the show?" he asked quietly. They could tell the audience that he'd been hurt, they could work around that. 

"Of course, Vegard, they just need to wrap it up, I'll be fi--" his last word was cut off in a muffled groan as the medic put pressure on his arm.

"Okay, we've got to do this now or you won't be going back on stage. Do you want to wrap it now and go to the hospital when you're done?" 

Bård let out a heavy sigh. "Yes. Just do it." 

Vegard didn't want him trying to fake a working arm. There was no way he'd be able to hide that sitting at that desk. "Bård--"

Bård let out a cry of pain through gritted teeth. Vegard had to look away as he heard the bone pop back into place with a sickening crack. When he looked back at his brother, he was sweating a little again, taking deep breaths in through his nose and blowing them out. The medic wrapped it tightly in a temporary splint and pulled his sleeve down. 

"Better?"

" _Satan i helvete_ ," was all Bård managed to get out at first. He stood up and straightened his jacket with his left arm. "It's a little better. I can deal with this. Thank you." He started back towards the stage entrance. He knew they were almost out of time, and people were going to wonder why he wasn't goofing off on stage during the break. 

Vegard caught up with him. "Bård, you are not going to be able to fake your way around this." 

"I use my left arm all the time, Vegard."

"Not exclusively." 

Bård turned to him. "Well, what else do you want me to do?"

Vegard stopped him at the stage door. "I want you to sit in my chair and let me have yours."

"Hell, no! You're not taking my chair!" 

"You earned it!"

Vegard laughed at the confused look on his brother's face. 

" _Hæ?!_ Earned?" 

Vegard grinned smugly at him. "You didn't think a little broken arm would distract me from the fact that you _lost_ the contest, right?"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got one little epilogue scene to go, and then this one will be wrapped! Thank you everyone for your kind words!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so there was a small bit of confusion on just how bad the break is, considering they were able to reset it quite quickly. From the (admittedly limited) research I did, bigger fractures sometimes appear bent without being full breaks, partially because of the swelling. And yes, it hurt a lot more than he let on. Read on to see ;) Also, thank you everyone for the nice comments, this is so fun to write! :*

 As Vegard settled into his brother's chair behind the desk, he could hear some people the audience starting to chuckle already. He breathed a small sigh of relief. It looked like they would go along with the "punishment" joke. Bård looked slightly uncomfortable in the spinning chair next to him, whether from the change or from his arm Vegard couldn't tell. He glanced at the countdown clock on the edge of the stage as Calle walked back on with a slightly confused expression. Bård gestured for Calle to come closer with a jerk of his head, and Calle bent down to hear his whispered explanation of what had just happened. Ever the professional, he turned a little to look at the audience with a fake laugh as if Bård had just told him a joke, but as soon as he turned back around his expression changed to one of concern so quickly that it would have been funny under different circumstances. Bård's expression softened a little as he reassured him that he was fine, but his best friend didn't look quite convinced. The countdown clock cut their conversation short as the theme music started back up. One short segment, one video clip, and then they were done. He looked over at Bård again--he wasn't buying the "I'm fine" act. He had just had his arm set back into place...admittedly it was a small break, but there was no way he was tolerating it as well as he was pretending to. He was still taking deep breaths and limiting his movements to slow, deliberate shifts in his chair. He had to react soon. 

The band finished their fanfare and the familiar "hey, hey, hey" started from the audience. Vegard couldn't help but grin. He wouldn't trade their audience for any in the world. 

"Welcome back, everyone! As you can see, the chair in the middle is now MINE--" he heard Bård let out a heavy sigh, clearly going for the sulking-loser approach, which was probably best--"as a particular brother of mine has recently lost his hosting privileges due to his lack of gymnastics skills."

"Hold on!" Calle piped up from his right, looking scandalized. "Hooold on. I won! That's my chair!" 

Vegard heard Bård laugh out loud in spite of himself. He wasn't expecting that.  _  
_

"Hey now, hey, hey, hey, we never decided that the winner GOT the chair, we just decided that Bård LOST the chair!" Vegard was talking faster and faster as Calle stood up and made a motion to come behind the desk. "Sit down!"

"Get up!" Calle climbed behind the desk. Vegard started to scoot away in the chair, but there really wasn't anywhere to go.

"NEI!" he half-yelled, half-laughed as Calle reached over his shoulders from behind to grab the cue cards out of his hand. "I'm the host, you're the sidekick, give those back!"

"Just let me have this moment!" Calle shouted back as they struggled over the cards. The audience was roaring. Calle yanked the cue cards out of Vegard's hands with a triumphant laugh and jumped on top of the desk, chair abandoned as a huge cheer erupted. Vegard gave up and just sat back, laughing. Calle straightened himself up and pushed back his hair, still standing on the desk. He motioned for silence. 

"Sorry about that," he said with a completely straight face and a flat tone, setting the audience off again. "A minor professional disagreement..." he continued introducing the video segment and Vegard glanced at Bård. He was looking up at Calle with a small smile on his face, but Vegard saw the way his hand was supporting his arm again, trying to take some weight off. Normally, he knew Bård would be laughing all through this. He was still hurting.

The lights went down as the video started to play. Calle got down from the desk, and Vegard smiled and gave him a thumbs up. Not only was that completely improvised and hilarious, but Vegard suspected he had done it to distract the audience from Bård so he could be still and quiet. Calle nodded and looked across the desk at Bård, confirming his suspicions. This was one of those times when working with your best friend really paid off. With the lights down, Bård had all but dropped the stage persona. His eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply through his nose and blowing it out. A delayed reaction? Or had it been hurting this whole time?  

Bård turned to Vegard and shook his head slightly. When he responded with a questioning face, Bård motioned to his arm and then rested his hand on his stomach. _Oh no._ His brother had never had a very strong stomach. He should have seen this coming--he was going to throw up. He looked so apologetic, Vegard almost got up and hugged him right there. He hadn't thought about how guilty Bård would probably feel for messing up the show. It wasn't his fault, of course, nobody could have predicted that he would slip. He gave his brother a reassuring look and motioned towards the wings. If he needed to leave, now was the time to do it. It didn't really matter what people thought if the other option was Bård throwing up on stage. Bård nodded and stood up slowly, heading to the wings as fast as he could without upsetting his stomach more. Calle watched him walk off and looked the Vegard for an explanation. Vegard put his hand on his own stomach and Calle nodded, looking even more concerned. Vegard beckoned him to lean over the desk and whispered in his ear, "If he's not back, just act like nothing happened." 

Bård reappeared as soon as the lights started to come back up, joining Calle and Vegard in the middle of the stage for the send-off to repeat his awkward wave and forced grin. Vegard noticed that his mic was dangling--he must have taken it off backstage. As soon as they were done, he sighed heavily and walked backstage again. When they made it back to join him, he was sitting down again with his head in his good hand. 

"Vegard...can you drive me to the hospital to get a cast on this or do you need to get home?" His tone had completely changed. His voice was low and quiet. He wasn't hiding the pain now. 

"No, I can--"

"I've got it, Vegard," Calle interrupted. "Go home, you've got to take your kids to school in the morning."

"Well, so does he." He turned to his brother. "Are you gonna be okay?"

Bård nodded silently and looked up. "Calle can take me. Vegard..." he looked up at his brother and his best friend. "Both of you...thanks. Thanks for..." he gestured with his good hand, "you know. Taking over, making it seem like...I was fine. I appreciate it."

"What did you think we were gonna do, let you figure it on your own?" Calle chuckled. "Come on, let's go before you break it again." Calle helped Bård shrug his coat onto his shoulders as they walked out the door. Vegard let them go with a heavy sigh. They'd have to acknowledge the cast at some point, but they would deal with that next week. _On the plus side_ , he thought to himself, _every other show will be a piece of cake after this_. 


End file.
